


Perfect

by ProphetOfWeasels



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Child Murder, Deception, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Mental Institutions, lying to authority
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProphetOfWeasels/pseuds/ProphetOfWeasels
Summary: When Greta begins caring for Brahms, she finds the Heelshire's have hired a second nanny so Greta only has to deal with day time activities, a night nanny named Cassandra Black. Sweet, funny and relaxed, Greta believes she's found a good friend for the lonely days, but what happens when she begins to unravel the truth behind the perfect nanny? What secrets lie below that lovely smile?





	

Mrs. Heelshire sat in the kitchen, a cup of steaming tea in front of her and a letter in her slightly shaky hand. She couldn't believe that Cassandra was coming back after disappearing for so long, but she only hoped Brahms would forgive the young woman. Mrs. Heelshire was certain he would, her baby boy always did favour Cassandra, even when they were children. He loved to play with her and she made him happy, so her return was welcomed. He would be thrilled, of course, but there would no doubt about apprehension with the situation. Still, when Cassandra wanted something, she would stop at nothing to get it. 

Finishing her tea, Mrs. Heelshire's eyes locked with the doll sitting across from her, his flawless face emotionless. "Well Brahms, your favourite nanny's coming back. Isn't that lovely?" There was no mistaking the feeling of having eyes locked on your back, but she couldn't tell if he was in or out of the walls, and she didn't want to think about it. So, she continued her commentary to the doll. "Along with the American, of course, but she'll handle everything from dinner onwards. I know how much you love her... Exotic cooking, to say."  Mrs. Heelshire remembered Cassandra wasn't a fan of cooking everyday kind of foods. She preferred Polish soups, fajitas and tacos, ravioli, linguine with chicken and sautéed vegetables, pasta bakes etc. Mrs. Heelshire remembered how Cassandra spent her own birthday cooking a banquet of Chinese food from scratch with her mother and it was enough to feed all six of them twice over (taking Cassandra’s sister into consideration), but Cassandra made sure Malcolm’s family got invited, so all of them managed to polish it all off. Such a caring, sweet girl. Even as a child. “Along with the American, Cassandra will take up duties from dinner onwards. She’ll care for you through the night, but I'm sure she’ll help Miss. Evans out as much as possible. Always such a team player, wasn't she Brahms?” A smile crossed her lips, before her face sank, becoming serious. “Promise me you’ll be good to her, Brahms…” Mrs. Heelshire waited for an answer, determined to make sure Cassandra would be safe. “Treat her well, Brahms. You know she cares deeply for you.”

 A single knock on the wall behind her gave all the confirmation needed.

* * *

 

Mr. Heelshire entered his son’s room – doll and letter in hand – as he sighed softly, sitting down on the bed with the doll on his knee. He was relieved Cassandra decided to come back, but he was worried about Brahms. His son always loved having Cassandra around, even when they were children, but the man of the house was never sure if Cassandra knew about the real Brahms that they neglected between their house’s walls. As for Brahms, his father worried about what would happen to him. Who knew what would happen inside his disturbed, tortured brain?

Mr. Heelshire was no fool, he knew there was sickness inside his son – there had been since he could toddle – but he was still human. Brahms could be so gentle and sweet. He was also so caring around Cassandra. “I’ll leave the letter in here for you, Brahms. You have all the right to hear from Cassandra as we do.” Leaving the letter on the bed, the elderly man stood with the doll cuddled to his chest. When he was at the door, he heard the some part of the room open and close quickly, the faintest footsteps following. Turning around to see the letter gone, he sighed again, a sad smile on his face. His poor Brahms. His shy, afraid Brahms.

He wondered to himself as he closed the door about what his son's raw reaction would be, but he knew he would never see them. Brahms was too practised and too good at hiding away. He would never know his true son. Maybe, however, Cassandra could. Deciding silently to himself as he walked into his study, he would write Cassandra a letter to leave under her pillow. She had the right to know if she didn't already. If was unfair to leave her in the dark. He wouldn't ruin another chance. 

* * *

 

Brahms sat in silence on his bed, locked away in his hidden room (which he was exceptionally proud of), hearing the music through the walls. He loved the music, but it was too repetitive sometimes. He missed listening to people that his Cassandra would allow. Like that Elvis fellow. Brahms liked Elvis.

Pulling his long legs under him, Brahms' fingers danced across the envelope, pulling out the letter daddy was talking about, smiling behind the mask at seeing fresh handwriting. He noted it sloped more to the right than it used to, but still very pretty and feminine all the same.

_To the loving family that took me in,_

_I'm writing to tell you that I shall be returning to your humble abode to resume my duties as Brahms' nanny, thank you for writing and letting me know. I know I've been away for a good long while, but I can finally break away and be with the only people who ever truly loved me._ _As for Greta Evans, I'm sure we'll be excellent friends. She sounds nice enough, and I'll make sure she takes good care of Brahms._  

_See you soon,_

_Cassandra_

 

Brahms rolled his eyes and took a small crafting knife from his desk, putting the letter to one side as he climbed back onto his bed. Running his fingers over the envelope again, a smile crept to his face again as he carefully cut a line in the back, revealing another letter she had hidden within the thick envelope. Brahms never did know how mummy and daddy never suspected that there was other contents hidden in the envelope, but then he doubted they paid much attention to it. Carefully unfolding the proper letter, he put the knife down, lying back on his bed. Ahh, there was the handwriting he knew. It was still very much cursive, but it didn't slope so much, standing tall and as elegant as letters can look. 

_My dearest Brahms,_

_So my sweet thing, we're going to be reunited again. I cannot begin to explain how much I've missed you. I know my second departure upset you greatly, and I apologise from the deepest pits of my heart that I never wanted to hurt you.  You know that, don't you? My smart Brahms. Now I'm free, they can never take me from you again. I'll be yours till the end of all life at last._

_I'm very excited to see you again, but don't feel pressured to show yourself. You're probably going to need time to rebuild your trust in me, and that's fine. I've got all the patience in the world for you._

_Forever Yours,_

_Cass_

He gently put the letter he wanted in Cassandra's special draw, smoothing it out with a smile. Judging by how silent it was and the darkness creeping into his bedroom, it was time for dinner. Soon, he'd have Cassandra to make him Italian, Polish, Chinese and many other foods. He missed all the options Cassandra brought with her. Like Elvis. Never forget Elvis. 

Brahms gave a small 'hmm', turning on his lights and wondering how long it would take for Cassandra to reach him. How long did he have until he had to face his childhood friend?  Behind the mask, his tongue traced his lips in thought on his feelings about this, doubt filling his body. She was coming back, and that was what mattered. 

**She abandoned you twice.** A dark voice in his mind made Brahms shudder slightly. He hated that voice. All his doubt, anger and self-hatred was in that voice, and he had made it a reality. He wanted it to leave, but he knew better. "She didn't have a choice." Brahms reasoned, kneeling beside Cassandra's special draw to look through all the photos. 

**She could've hidden here with you.**

"She loves me. That's why she's coming back." 

**She's lying!** Brahms wildly shook his head to get rid of that voice, at least for a while, clutching his hair. She told him to take all the time he needed. She knew he was going to go through this and didn't want him being unsure about showing himself again. **She's using you.** That dark, doubtful voice rang through his head again. 

"Cassandra doesn't want to rush me."  Brahms countered, and hid his surprise when the voice chuckled. 

**She knows you too well. She knows you're a broken, ugly coward.**

"Cass doesn't think I'm ugly..." Brahms touched his porcelain mask, standing up and walking to the small wall mirror, shakily pulling the mask off. 

Staring back at him was a man with burn scars on the right side of his face, the bottom of his eyes being pulled down ever-so-slightly from the tightened skin and it ran from his temple to just under his beard. Jesus above, the whole side of his face was disfigured, he couldn't even try to downplay it. His skin was thin in some places, rolled in others...Messy black curls of hair and disgusted blue-green eyes pierced his body. Grabbing the nearest object, Brahms smashed the mirror and collapsed back onto his bed, sobbing into his pillow as his body curled in on itself.

**Look at you... Crying like the horrid baby you are!**

"Leave me alone!" Brahms screamed into the pillow, knuckles going white. "She loves me... She won't leave me... She loves me..." He chanted it over and over again like some kind of prayer (perhaps it was), drying his tears and placing the mask back on his face, reddened, puffy eyes getting dark. "She won't leave again... I won't let her."

* * *

**What's up, Unicorns!**

**Thank you so much for reading! I also have a FanFiction account under "TheProphetOfWeasels". A lot of cool stuff on there.**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

**0^0 Weasel out!**

 

 

 


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